Dancing Slowly In an Empty Room
by Branwe
Summary: The wall hurts her back. She faces his red eyes and holds her breath, her fingers move up and wander through his face, touching the small scar in form of a circle right beside his left eye. She let's her hand fall until it hits his mouth, her thumb moves his lower lip foward when it passes and stops in his chin. "What is an Alpha without a pack?", she asks. "Nothing", he answers.
1. Chapter 1

Scott McCall wakes up missing his mother, the pain in his chest almost too huge to supress, a ghost that hunts him every day no matter how much he fights it. He looks too much like her to forget her, his small and black eyes, his brown and straight hair and his warm color are a everyday remember burning in his mirror. He wants to break it but he can't, he can't, he can't.

He gets up and moves his fingers across the comber, he knows he has to leave this place now. He doesn't want to, he loves it. He loves the fact that it's far away from everything, that he can run in the woods at night and the wolves that sing at the twilight. There are no memories here, just smells. His house smells like girl whose names he can't recall, it's distant and weak but still feels dirty. He feels dity. He's done so many things and that's what makes him feel dirty, it's almost laughable.

Part of him wants to lay in bed and stay here forever, waiting for the cold hands of death to consume him, but he'll fight. He'll live. For everything he's sacrificed, he'll keep walking until his feet become useless. He opens the window and breath in cold air. It's time to pack now. He never takes much, he can't. He takes a little elephant made of marfin his father gave him when he was 3 years old, he's not sure how he remembers it, before he knew his father's hands were to feared like guns, an old picture of his first house, a shirt that smells like Allison, keys that only he knows what opens, an ipod full of musics that fills his heart when it's almost shuting down, some clothes and money. He spots a full bottle of vodka in the edge of his eyes and puts it inside the bag as well, he'll need something to blurry his senses. He always does.

He'll have to burn this house now. It's the worse part, knowing he'll never be able to go back to it. He almost gives it up, what would be the difference, anyway? Someone could track a bunch of destroyed houses. Someone could track his steps, his breaths, his thoughts. He stops and play attention to his breath and his claws going back to being nails. He can never let this allucinations drive him mad. There's so much fear in his brain he feels like that's his normal state, like being relaxed is wrong. Fear is his peace, his confort, his solid ground. Fear is everything he has ever known.

The fire behind him is relaxing. He did everything he could to garantee it wouldn't get to the florest, and he has to keep going now. He feels anxious about his choice of city, he usually chooses something small and isolated but he'd like to change his tatics. To hide in a full clowd seems smarter than being the only person in kilometers, but maybe he has exagerated a little bit. New York is as big as a country.


	2. Chapter 2

Lydia Martin wakes up because there's light creeping into her room. She hates morning light, she hates sun light and she hates that no matter how many curtais she buys some of it always manage to invade her peace.

Inconscience was keeping away the pain of hunger and the imminet obligation of feeding, but now her whole body aches and her head tries to explode. She doesn't want to be touched, she doesn't want to have sex. _Not today. _Today her body should be hers, only hers, but in response to this thoughts her belly start burning like she's about to have a child. She groans.

When she gets up her body betrays her, small white balls cover her eyes and she loses her balance, she shearch for something to hold into with her left arm and luckily she finds her comber. She presses her head into it and waits until the dizziness goes away and the world stop spinning. _"Never stay that much time without feeding again"_, she says to herself. She hates what hunger does to her, how it turns her into a weak thing, guided only for the desires of a body she has no control over. It feels very human.

She just wants a feel hours, a feel hours more so she wouldn't have to feel this day with sin. She's so stupid, she should've fed yesteday, why does she always want to let it for later, anyway? She'll have to do it. There's no difference. When she's not hungry she can at least find someone decent, someone who doesn't leave dark marks in her skin and shame on her fingers. Someone who is hard to get, challenging, pure, loyal.

When she gets to the end of the stairs that leads to the outside she faces an almost empty street. There's a blond skinny woman walking, but almost running, with her child holding her left hand and a man in a suit holding a suitcase made of leather. This one will fit.  
>"Hey!", she says, in a mix of a scream and a loud voice. He turns to her with a confused look and she observes his eyesbrows going up in awe when he spots her face. "Could you help me?", she asks, her voice almost a melody. "Of course", he says, his voice is tender but strong, "What do you need help for, darling?" He said the "darling" with a teasing tone. It was almost laughable.<p>

"My knees are hurting quite a lot and I can't manage to go up the stairs", she let's out a fake moan "Could you help me get to my room?"

One of his eyebrows goes up. "Of course", he says.

Did he think about how did I get here in the first place? Maybe he just didn't care. There was a extremely hot young girl with a soft and musical voice talking to him, inviting him to her room.

She puts her arms around his shoulders and he puts his arms under the back of her knees before he lifts her up. Her old starts to swing again. Well, maybe the part of not being able to go up the stairs wasn't that much of a lie.

The feeling of his arousal because of the contact of her body with his and the slowly movement of her fingers against the back of his neck was strong in the back of her head. She could hear him screaming. Her power was pressing against her painfully, begging to be set free. _He is ready_, part of her insists. She's not that sure, if she let's it go too soon she could kill him. She fights the pain away.

When they get to her living room he makes a confused face. It's almost beautiful.

"Could you get me to my bed?" She asks. His screams increave their volume. If he was carrying her a little bit lower in comparation with his body she would be able to feel it in her body as well. The middle of her legs tremble with this thought and she bits her lips to supress it.

"Where is it?", his voice is rough, his politeness is totally gone. He wants to fuck her so badly his mind is losing itself. _It makes her feel powerfull_, she didn't even let her powers free. When they get to the door she helps him open it. Her body screams in antecipation, she's so hungry.  
>He drops her into bed but she can't contain herself, she pushes him in her direction and when he falls she wrapens her legs around his waist and presses herself against him. He moans and let his head fall and his eyes close. Voices emerge in her head and start to scream. She fights them. <em>Not yet. <em>She moves her hand down his belt and opens it, her hand moves under his boxers...

His hand find hers, he's not quite stopping her, not quite letting her go. "Why are you doing this?"

She let's go and exasperated sign. Really? That is what he has to ask? "What?", her voice goes out kind of desesperated. _She is so fucking hungry. _She takes her hand out of his and moves it up and down against him. He swallows hard.

"Fucking a completely stranger", he says, his eyes fighting not to close, fighting not to let his body win. Is he fighting against her? That's funny. But not right now. She hears his hard breath and it only let's her body more unattended.

"Because you're hot" she looks into his eyes and takes him out of his boxers "And I want to fuck you" she presses his hands against him hard. It wouldn've hurt if she wasn't what she was. He moans. _God, finally. _She takes her underwear out and puts him inside her, then she let's her powers go free.

It feels like the end of the world.

* * *

><p>When she's not hungry anymore, she decides to enjoy it. She turns them so she is on top and moves thought him slowly. It's good to see him moan. Her smell is all over the room, is intoxicating and satisfying. She should never get this hungry again. She could do this every day. Deep down she knows she always like it when they're hard and on her. She likes the power that it gives her making someone moan. "Fuck", he says, his voice almost a grown.<p>

"Are you gonna come?", she asks.

"Fuck, girl, move faster..." She continues at the same pace. "Answer me", he moans something indestinguible. "Answer me!", his eyes focus on hers. "Yes", he half moans the word. She stops completly.

"No", shes moves her head down to kiss his neck. "You will come when I want you to", she whispers against his ear.

* * *

><p>After she takes the passed out man out of her house she takes about 6 showers. She feels dirty.<p>

She opens her window and let her body relax against it, water of her wet red hair fallng against the front wall white wall of her house and her arms trembling against the cold air. _You should enjoy today_. She sights. _No. I've ruined the day already. _She observes the light of the houses, buildings and stores contrast against the darkness and hopelessness of the night. It represents hope. Maybe she should go out. It her _birthday, _for God's sake. It's supposed to be her clean day.

After all this time, she stills find it amusing to dress herself, to buy new clothes and mix it all. She chooses a pink-orange dress with red strong damask patterns that marks her waist and black, delicate heels. She doesn't need a purse, she'll make some man pay her drinks. _No. _She takes a small purse and puts some money in it. Today is supposed to be fun, isn't that right?

* * *

><p>Sorry for taking so long and posting it so small. <em>Fun is about to begin. <em>


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